Jack Vettriano The Cocktail Shaker

Jack Vettriano The Cocktail ShakerJack Vettriano The City CafeJack Vettriano The Cigar Divan
Susan did so, and stood before the Ultimate Reality.
Death was seven feet tall. He looked taller. Susan had vague memories of a figure carrying her on its shoulders through the huge , and haughty, and terrible. He might unbend enough to bend the Rules, Susan thought, but that doesn't make him human. This is the keeper of the gate of the world. Immortal, by definition. The end of everything.
He is my grandfather.
Will be, anyway. Is. Was.
But . . . there was the thing in the apple tree. Her mind kept swinging back to that. You looked up at the figure, and thought about the tree. It was almost impossible to keep both images in one mind.
WELL, WELL, WELL. YOU HAVE A LOT OF YOUR MOTHER ABOUT YOU, said Death. AND YOUR FATHER.dark rooms, but in memory it had been a human figure ‑ bony, but human in a way she was certain of but couldn't quite define.This wasn't human. It was tall

Ford Madox Brown Romeo and Juliet

Ford Madox Brown Romeo and JulietPierre Auguste Renoir La PromenadePierre Auguste Renoir Dance in the CountryPierre Auguste Renoir Dance in the City
was no real day or night here. That had given Albert trouble at first. There was just the bright landscape and, above, a black sky with stars. Death had never got the hang of day and night. When the house had human inhabitants it tended to keep a 26‑hour day. Humans, left to themselves, adopt a longer diurnal rhythm than the 24‑hour day, so they can be reset . 'But they ain't stopped dyin' this time. And the horse went to her. She's fillin' the hole.'
Albert glared at the darkness. When he was agitated it showed by a sort of relentless chewing and sucking activity, as if he was trying to extract some forgotten morsel of teatime from the recesses of a tooth. Now he was making a noise like a hairdresser's U‑bend.like a lot of little clocks at sunset. Humans have to put up with Time, but days are a sort of personal option.Albert went to bed whenever he remembered.Now he sat up, with one candle alight, staring into space.'She remembered about the bathroom,' he muttered. 'And she knows about things she couldn't have seen. She couldn't have been told. She's got his memory. She inherited.'SQUEAK, said the Death of Rats. He tended to sit by the fire at nights.'Last time he went off, people stopped dyin',' said Albert

Paul Gauguin Woman with a Flower

Paul Gauguin Woman with a FlowerPaul Gauguin The Seed of AreoiPaul Gauguin The Moon and the EarthPaul Gauguin The Loss of Virginity
Colon began, 'now, as you—'
'You men, you listen up good right now!' Detritus boomed.
'Thank you, Acting-Constable Detritus,' said Colon wearily. 'Captain Vimes is getting married today. We're going to provide a guard of honour. That's what we always used to do in the old days when a Watchman got wed. So I want helmets and breastplates bright and shiny. And cohorts gleaming. Not a speck of muck . . . where's Corporal Nobbs?'
There was a dink as clockwork thinking helmet.'
Cuddy coughed. 'These big bits are cooling fins, see? Painted black. I glommed a clockwork engine off my cousin, and this fan here blows air over—' He stopped when he saw Colon's expression.
'That's what you've been working on all night, is it?'
'Yes, because I reckon troll brains get too—'Acting-Constable Detritus' hand bounced off his new helmet.'Hasn't been seen for hours, sir!' he reported.Colon rolled his eyes.'And some of you will . . . Where's Lance-Constable Angua?'Dink. 'No-one's seen her since last night, sir.''All right. We got through the night, we're going to get through the day. Corporal Carrot says we're to look sharp.'Dink. 'Yes, sir!''Acting-Constable Detritus?''Sir?''What's that you've got on your head?'Dink. 'Acting-Constable Cuddy made it for me, sir. Special

Johannes Vermeer Woman with a Pearl Necklace

Johannes Vermeer Woman with a Pearl NecklaceJohannes Vermeer Saint PraxidisJohannes Vermeer Lady Standing at a VirginalJohannes Vermeer A Lady Writing a Letter
mighty brass taps and then into an enamelled tub. There were things laid out on a fluffy towel beside it -huge scrubbing brushes, three kinds of soap, a loofah.
Willikins was standing patiently beside the bath, like a barely heated towel rail.
'Yes?' said Vimes.
'His lordship . . . that is, her ladyship's father . . . he required to have his back scrubbed,' said Willikins.
'You go and help theThere was a thung noise and Cuddy's helmet came free.
Cuddy emerged, blinking, into the light. He focused on the Librarian, and growled.
'He hit me on the head!'
'Oook.'
'He says you came up through the floor,' said Carrot.
'That's no reason to hit me on the head.'
'Some of the things that come up th old geyser stoke the furnace,' said Vimes firmly.Left alone, he struggled out of his breastplate and threw it in the corner. The chainmail shirt followed it, and the helmet, and the money pouch, and various leather and cotton oddments that came between a Watchman and the world.And then he sank, gingerly at first, into the suds. 'Try soap. Soap'11 work,' said Detritus.'Hold still, will you?' said Carrot.'You're twisting my head off!''Go on, soap him head.''Soap your own head!'rough the floor at Unseen University don't even have a head,' said Carrot.
'Oook!'

Frida Kahlo Memory

Frida Kahlo MemoryFrida Kahlo Me and My ParrotsFrida Kahlo Me and My DollFrida Kahlo Luther Burbank
looks like gravel to me, Mrs Cake.'
'Orthopaedic, see?'
Carrot was standing respectfully on the doorstep with his helmet under his arm and a very embarrassed expression on his face.
'Well?' said Angua, not unkindly.
'Er. Good 'Har, har,' said a voice, full of withering cynicism.
She looked down. Gaspode was sitting behind Carrot, trying to glare while scratching himself furiously.
'Last night we chased a cat up a tree,' said Gaspode.
'You and me, eh? We could make it. Fate has thrown us together, style of fing.'
'Go away.'
'Sorry?' said Carrot.
'Not you. That dog.'
Carrot turned.
'Him? Is he bothering you now? He's a nice little chapmorning. I thought, you know, perhaps, you not knowing very much about the city, really. I could, if you like, if you don't mind, not having to go on duty for a while . . . show you some of it. . .?'For a moment Angua thought she'd contracted pre-science from Mrs Cake. Various futures flitted across her imagination.'I haven't had breakfast,' she said.'They make a very good breakfast in Gimlet's dwarf delicatessen in Cable Street.''It's lunchtime.''It's breakfast time for the Night Watch.''I'm practically vegetarian.''He does a soya rat.'She gave in. 'I'll fetch my coat.'

Herbert James Draper Ulysses and the Sirens

Herbert James Draper Ulysses and the SirensHerbert James Draper LamiaHerbert James Draper Lament for Icarus
finished taking his The Patrician was not a gardens kind of person. But some of his predecessors had been, and Lord Vetinari never changed or destroyed anything if there was no logical reason to do so. He maintained the little zoo, and the racehorse stable, and even recognized that the gardens themselves were of extreme historic interest because this was so obviously the case.
They had been laid out by Bloody Stupid Johnson.
Many great landscape gardeners have gone down in history and been remembered in a very solid way by the magnificent parks and gardens that they designed with almost god-like power and foresightexercise and, besides, it gave the whole thing a pleasing symmetry.He called it 'the-turning-the-wheel-with-pedals-and-another-wheel-machine'. Lord Vetinari was also at work.Normally, he was in the Oblong Office or seated in his plain wooden chair at the foot of the steps in the palace of Ankh-Morpork; there was an ornate throne at the top of the steps, covered with dust. It was the throne of Ankh-Morpork and was, indeed, made of gold. He'd never dreamed of sitting on it.But it was a nice day, so he was working in the garden.Visitors to Ankh-Morpork were often surprised to find that there were some interesting gardens attached to the Patrician's Palace.

Cao Yong WINDS OF LOVE

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least you’ll be so good as to run up to my place and bring everything that’s in the bottom of the dresser.”
“Yes, Esme.”
“But before that you’ll call in at your Jason’s and tell him to get the forge good and hot.”
Nanny Ogg unwound down to her waist when she shook her head a cou-ple of times.
Nanny watched in paralyzed fascination as she reached up again and broke a single hair at its root.
Granny Weatherwax’s hands made a complicated motion in the air as she made a noose out of something almost too thin to see. She ignored the thrashing horn and dropped it over the unicorn’s neck. Then she pulled.
Struggling, its unshod hooves kicking up great clods of mud, the unicorn struggled to its feet.
“That’ll never hold it,” said Nanny, sidling around the tree.
“I could hold it with a cobweb, Gytha Ogg. With a cob-web. Now go about your business.”
“Yes, Esme.”stared down at the struggling unicorn. It507Terry Pratchettseemed to be stuck, terrified of Granny but at the same time quite unable to escape.“Oh, Esme, you’re never going to ask our Jason to—““I won’t ask him to do anything. And I ain’t asking you, neither.”Granny Weather-wax removed her hat, skimming it into the bushes. Then, her eyes never leaving the animal, she reached up to the iron-gray bun of her hair and removed a few crucial pins.The bun uncoiled a waking snake of fine hair, which